


Reckless

by jencsi



Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 10:22:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7218682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jencsi/pseuds/jencsi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julie is attacked at a crime scene; it reminds her of the Gig Harbor Killer and shakes her. How many brushes with death can one handle? Story for the CSI FO May-June Fan Fic Challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reckless

She could feel the cold metal pressed against her skull. A thick arm wrapped around her neck and dragged her backwards, cutting off her supply of oxygen. She scrapped viciously at the arm belonging to the mystery assailant who was holding her hostage. She could feel his hot breath on her face, the desire to escape now making her frantic with fear, her heart hammering in her chest. All she could think of was getting away but no matter how much she struggled, scratched and tugged on his arm, he would not release her. She cried out in frustration, trying to twist her body around to face him or throw him off, but he growled at her “Don’t move” and pressed the gun harder against her head. 

It felt like an eternity, struggling against this man, wondering how he got into their crime scene. Seconds earlier she had been kneeling over an important pool of blood on the floor, taking photos and analyzing the shape of it when she felt someone strong grab her hair, yanking it and pulling her to her feet. That tug on her hair was all to familiar and all too terrifying but she didn’t have time to process it because her attacker had wrapped his arm around her neck and pressed the gun to her head. 

Now she was forced to stand, her head aching, her breathing becoming more labored as his arm tightened around her, pulling her backwards still. She felt so helpless. If only she could reach her gun! 

“Let her go,” an authoritative voice demanded of the attacker. 

Julie looked up at saw Greg there, his gun drawn on the suspect. She had been working the scene inside a suburban home on the east side of the city with him when he stepped out to take photos of the exterior. He had returned and discovered her like this, the man holding his partner hostage was unfamiliar to him but clearly had been waiting somewhere inside despite the officers clearing the scene earlier. 

“No way man,” the attacker growled “you guys are cops, you’ve got my DNA all over this place, you either destroy that stuff or she’s coming with me.”

He tightened his grip on Julie and she whimpered. How could she give him all their evidence? Panic began to set in and she struggled once more, trying to kick him or hurt him somehow, anything to force him to let her go. 

“Stop moving,” the suspect yelled, the gun jammed against her head so hard she felt dizzy and could see objects in the room spin around her. Of course this idiot had to hit her where Winthrop had. This was her worst nightmare all over again. 

 

“Don’t do this,” Greg pleaded with the stranger, taking another step closer to him. 

Despite years of experience, he could not find a good place to shoot without possibly hurting Julie. One wrong move and this whole rescue attempt could backfire. But as he looked at Julie, her eyes were filled with tears, her whole body shaking, her hands grabbing at the suspects arm around her neck desperate to escape. She looked at Greg with a hopeless look and he was reminded horribly of the day he found her in the trunk of Winthrop’s car, bloodied and bruised from the violent attack. It must have been by happenstance that he would be the one to see her in peril twice, one year later. He couldn’t let that happen to her again. 

Greg took a chance and fired, one shot straight at the suspect, hitting him in his right shoulder, the one that held the gun. It was a risky move but it had the exact results he wanted. The suspect dropped the gun and pushed Julie away from him. She fell, landing hard on the floor, feeling her knees and the palms of her hands scrape painfully on it.   
In her weakened state, she managed to force herself to stand on shaky legs and bolt out of the house, feeling the urge to run as far away from here as she could. But their parked SUV on the street stopped her as she ran until she crashed into it, reaching clumsily for the handle to the passenger side door, yanking it open, crawling inside, curling up in the seat and staying there, doors locked, breathing heavily trying to calm down but feeling more afraid with each passing second. 

 

 

Greg had called for backup after wounding the suspect. Officer’s had taken him into a squad car to wait until two ambulances arrived, one for the suspect and one for Julie. The suspect was taken away immediately, accompanied by two officers to the hospital to be treated. The medics in the second ambulance turned to Greg and said “Is there a second victim?” We got a call about two.”

“Yeah,” Greg said glancing around for Julie and seeing her in the car “just uh- hang on a second-“

He reached for his cell phone and made a call. 

“Russell,” he said shakily “we’ve got a problem.”

Russell ducked under the double set of yellow caution tape that now surrounded the original turned double crime scene he had sent Greg and Julie on hours ago. It was supposed to be a simple home invasion gone wrong when the home owner attacked one of the assailants. Now it seemed there had been two people involved and the second attacker had hidden in the home, attacking Julie while she worked. Russell found Greg standing outside the scene looking worried. 

“What happened?” he asked “where’s Jules?”

Greg pointed to the SUV where she was huddled inside still. 

“She won’t come out of there, she won’t talk to me or anyone else” Greg said “she’s refusing treatment from the medics and I know she was hurt pretty bad when that maniac attacked her, maybe you can talk to her.” 

“Yeah,” Russell said “yeah, I’m on it.”

 

He sighed and walked over to the car. Julie didn’t seem to notice him because she kept her head down. So when he tapped on the glass of the passenger side window she jumped, her heart hammering in her chest, fearing more violence but calming down slightly when she saw it was Russell. 

“What are you doing Jules?” he asked her, his voice muffled through the closed window. 

“Go away D.B,” she snapped, curling up tighter in the seat, drawing her knees up to her chest. 

“I know you’re hurting,” he continued “Greg told me everything, come on out of there so the medics can check you out.”

“I’m fine,” she said but her voice cracked with the raw emotions from today, her body sore from the struggle and the fall.

Russell tapped harder on the window and yelled “Hey!” getting her attention and making her look at him, her eyes red from crying. 

“You get out of this car right now and let those medics treat you,” he ordered “or so help me Jules I will break this door!” 

He was serious, she knew. But she couldn’t shake that fearful feeling. The car had been her refuge and she felt vulnerable out there where all the violence was, not just today but all the other times leading up to this. She slowly reached for the handle and tugged, letting the heavy door swing open. She uncurled and regained her footing, facing Russell now but keeping her head down. 

He slid one finger under her chin to lift her head up. She pierced him with a sad look as he examined her injuries, several cuts and scrapes as well as a large bruise on the side of her head where the gun had been pushed forcefully against. He didn’t need her sad look and tiny whimper of discomfort to know how she was feeling. Despite her incredible strength and resilience, she was still vulnerable. 

When he had lingered and stared too long, she pushed his hand away with her trembling ones.

“I know,” he soothed grabbing her hands and pulling her in for a hug “I know that was scary, come on, let’s get you some help.”

He led her over to the ambulance and helped her up into it so the medics could start treating her. Just like her last run in with a baseball to her head, she disclosed her coma and previous head trauma’s with the medics who went through all the rigorous tests to make sure she was concussion free. Luckily she was and they would be able to tend to her wounds without having to transport her to the hospital. 

Unfortunately, since she had been attacked by a suspect in their case, they needed to treat her like a piece of evidence. Every open wound on her was carefully swabbed for potential DNA from the attacker, every bruise photographed by Morgan who had arrived to help process with Greg. The camera flashed in Julie’s eyes and she turned her head away from it feeling nauseous from the blow to her head and how violated she felt right now. Was this what had happened the night Winthrop attacked her? The thought of so many people having to look at her and process her that night and having no memory of it made her shiver with a mixture of disgust and fear. She hated not being in control. 

When it was time to look at the head injury, Morgan hesitated. 

“Jules?” she said cautiously “I just need some pictures of your head, I’ll be really fast I promise.”

“Just do it,” Julie said knowing that Morgan was as uncomfortable as she was right now. 

Morgan nodded and gently swept back Julie’s hair to get a better look at the bruise. It made her sick to her stomach just like when Winthrop had left even more bruises on her friend. Julie held her breath waiting for the sounds of the camera’s shutter to end and the multiple flashes to stop making her see funny balls of light in her eyes. She squeezed them shut and they burned. 

“Okay,” Morgan said at last “that’s it.”

Julie opened her eyes and met Morgan’s. Her friend could only give her a sympathetic look unsure what to say to make her feel better. 

“Do you want me to stay?” Morgan finally asked as the medics descended on Julie to properly bandage her wounds. 

“No,” Julie said looking ahead at Russell who had hovered near the ambulance but with his back turned so she would have privacy. “I’ll be fine, but thanks.”

Morgan nodded, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze for comfort before departing with the photo’s and swabs to begin processing them. 

The medics treated Julie now but at a much quicker pace; cleaning her cuts and scrapes, checking again for any signs of concussion then bandaging the more serious wounds. When they finished, they released her with the order to rest and avoid strenuous activity for the rest of the day. 

 

Feeling useless now, she sighed and stayed quiet on the car ride back to her condo. As she expected, Russell stayed with her to keep watch and make sure she didn’t disobey the medics’ orders. On the couch in her living room, they sat in silence until- 

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked him suddenly “why do all the crazy ones find me?”

“Nothing’s wrong with you Jules,” he assured her “it was just bad luck that’s all.”

“But February,” she stammered “Winthrop- and Darryl, that mechanic two years ago, and the shooter at the conference- that’s too many bad things D.B.”

“I know it seems that way,” he said “but you fight every single time and you win, yeah you get beat up but you come back swinging, sometimes I think you’re too tough to die Jules.” 

She gave him a menacing look at his insinuation but appreciated it all the same.

“It’s just,” she continued “it seems like a bad sign you know? Too many bad things in my life, that’s how burn out starts D.B.”

“Maybe, for some people,” Russell said “but not you Jules.”

She looked at him, waiting for more advice but shocked when he didn’t continue. 

“That’s it?” she asked “that’s all you have?”

“What do you want?” he asked “don’t tell me you’re turning zen on me Jules, living in the moment, thinking deep thoughts, you know I’ve got a great book on meditation and yoga that you could-

“Stop,” she said affirmatively reverting back to their old rule put in place years ago for whenever he got too Zen. The idea of yoga instead of her favorite cutthroat sports made her shiver with disgust. 

He smirked at her, pleased that he had successfully annoyed her enough to forget her troubles. 

“Okay, maybe you’re right,” she said settling back on the couch “but if I fall down the stairs or something tomorrow you owe me.” 

“Deal,” Russell said picking up the remote and flipping through the channels on her T.V. 

She reached for a pillow to curl up with; feeling tired after the ordeal and her usual left over post coma exhaustion. Once Russell had settled on a show for them to watch, she looked at him and said “I forgot to uh- thank you for what you did earlier, at the scene, I think I forgot who I was when I was hiding in the car, but you reminded me that I’m uh- more than just accident prone.”

He glanced at her, first at the large bruise on the side of her head from the gun, then his eyes met hers and she was grinning at him with the brightest smile despite all she had been through. 

“No Jules,” he said thinking of all the ways she had positively impacted his life “thank you.”


End file.
